


Lonely Moonlight

by cecilkirk



Series: Heliocentric [4]
Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M, Ryden, in which ryan and brendon got back together after the split
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 10:50:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6114226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecilkirk/pseuds/cecilkirk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brendon finds something he wasn't meant to see.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lonely Moonlight

Ryan is rooting their bedroom for his phone charger as Brendon wakes up.

"Why," Brendon mutters into his pillow.

"Shush," Ryan says, peering under the bed. "I'm looking for my cord."

"But why are you up so early?"

Ryan brings himself to his knees to look at Brendon over the mattress. "Because I need to leave early."

Brendon huffs, throwing his arms around his face to block out the mid-morning sunlight. Ryan grins, and the cord brushes his knuckles.

"Spencer lives about three hours away, and we plan to spend as much of the day together as we can," Ryan says, standing and pocketing the cord. "I figure I owe him, after all of this."

Rolling over onto his back, Brendon looks at him. "Yeah."

"I'll see you later tonight, then."

Brendon nods, yawning a "Yeah."

"'Yeah,'" Ryan mocks, smiling. He bends over to kiss Brendon's forehead. Brendon puts his hand on the back of Ryan's neck, kissing him smoothly, evenly, slowly, letting time inch forward. Finally, finally they felt comfortable allowing time to move glacially in this togetherness, this unity.

"Hey," Ryan says. "I love you."

Brendon smiles sheepishly, returning Ryan's. "I love you too." His fingertips meet the edges of Ryan's hair, and he flattens it against the nape of his neck. "I really do."

Ryan pats his hand against Brendon's cheek jovially, grinning wider than he can control. He pulls Brendon's hand away, kisses him once more, and is out the door.

 

 

 

For the entirety of their lunch, they do not stop speaking. Conversation ebbs and flows, and it is nothing but soothing to Ryan. He feared  that the handful of months behind them would have come between them, that every fleck of friendship and amiability would have been ripped from Spencer. But it hadn't, and Ryan was amazed to find how easy it was to remember the band together like showing the other a handful of cards in a game, one by one, learning how they worked together to assemble the deck. 

And as they left the past behind and brought their lives to the present, they were faced with a question. Ryan asked it, and Spencer answered honestly:

"Do you miss the band?"

Spencer shrugs, setting his drink down. "I mean, of course. I think about it every day. But it was for the best; if we were to get back together, it would feel like taxidermy. I am glad it existed, and I am glad it ended, even as it did."

Ryan nods. He agrees completely, absorbing and identifying with Spencer's words, even if he had stood on the opposing side of the split. It tastes bitter; he knows much of it is sepia colored from memories.

"So," Ryan says, nodding to Spencer's hand. "You've found someone?"

Immediately Spencer begins to grin, rubbing his fingers over the ring like he was lucky to have found it. "Yeah. Yeah, she's--she's really great. She's completely wonderful."

Ryan beams. He'd seen Spencer's eyes remain unchanged through the years, and this was a joy foreign to him, foreign to both of him. He had really found love.

"I'm glad. I'm really happy for you, Spence." He takes a sip of his drink, looking around the restaurant.

Spencer nods, looking down at his ring. "Are you dating anyone?"

Like the flicker of a switch, Ryan begins to grin. Spencer's mouth curls into a snicker, something light but meaningful.

"That's a yes, then?" he asks through a laugh.

"Yes," Ryan responds, smiling. "It's--it's Brendon."

Spencer's eyebrows rise. "Really," he states more than asks.

Ryan gives a short nod. "Yup." A nervousness begins to find his stomach. Even though Spencer wouldn't be surprised by every crevice of this fact, Ryan knows there is something secretive he's offering up by exposing this. He feels like he is shedding light on the parts of their past he had tried to keep smothered in shadows; there is vulnerability in bringing things into the light.

"You know, I'm actually really glad to hear that," Spencer says.

Ryan cocks his head slightly, only to a degree Spencer could notice. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. You two always had something, and I'm...I'm just glad it didn't die, you know? I'm okay with the band having ended, but I'm glad we never really drifted too far away. I just talked to Jon the other day, and it was just, I dunno, really great, you know?" Spencer shrugs, stirring his straw around the walls of his glass. "You and Brendon always had something really special. It was something I'd never seen in you before. Some side you'd never shown me. Above all, it's a relief to know you two never really ended."

Ryan blinks. He finds himself struggling to string words together.

"Thank--thank you, Spencer." Ryan swallows. "I'm glad, too. For all of this. I'm sorry it didn't end better, but I'm glad it was real."

"Me too, Ryan," Spencer says, pinching his straw. "I am glad the memories we were left with had edges not too sharp to touch."

As Ryan drives home, he lets that statement reverberate in his mind.

 

 

 

Ryan is not surprised to come home finding Brendon on a laptop in their bed, but he is surprised to see that it's his. It doesn't bother him--he knew Brendon was horrible at charging his own, and he figured Brendon probably had used it before--but it does bother Ryan to see that he'd turned off all the lights.

"Bren, you're going to ruin your vision," Ryan says as he flips on the overhead light switch. In that moment, light drenches the room; in that moment, Brendon looks up, and Ryan sees his eyes are bright, teeming with vivid sadness.

"Hey," Ryan says, sitting on the edge of the bed. "What's wrong?"

A panic begins to fill Ryan, building up in his chest, pooling in his fingertips. For these brief moments, Ryan had no idea what was upsetting Brendon so deeply and he felt completely useless. He knew Brendon would tell him and they would find a solution together, but these achingly slow seconds dripped down the walls of their bedroom, ugly and messy. For the terse eternity of blinks and sighs and racing thoughts held, Ryan felt the utmost self-loathing and enveloping anxiety.

And Brendon, who was never speechless, who always had too much to say or said too much, was silent. He stared at Ryan, tacitly searching for some kind of truth Ryan didn't know he would want until Brendon turns the laptop around.

Immediately, Ryan's face begins to burn.

"Brendon, that wasn't--"

The words skip and stutter in Ryan's throat. He waited for Brendon to respond, but he said nothing.

"I made that just after the split. You weren't--I forgot I had even written it. Why--why are you so upset?"

Brendon breathes, and Ryan can hear how ragged it is, like ribbon dragged through broken glass. "I had no idea you'd been this upset."

Ryan blinks, and the light above him feels overwhelming. "I--you were the love of my life, Brendon. I didn't know what to do."

Brendon's eyes continue to flicker through Ryan's, searching, learning. "I can't believe...I mean, me?"

"Of course," Ryan says slowly, evenly. "It's always been you. It could only ever be you."

Ryan plucks his laptop from Brendon's lap, closing it. He sets it beside him, and Brendon wraps his arms around Ryan, sudden and tight.

"I'm sorry," Brendon whispers in a strained voice.

At this sound, Ryan feels his throat begin to tighten. "It's okay, Brendon. I don't have to relive that again. I'm not lonely anymore."

Brendon's arms tighten around Ryan's shoulders. Ryan does not know what to do. He doesn't know how to comfort Brendon; he can't fathom the empathy, much less imagine being in Brendon's place. He knows Brendon has wandered upon sharp edges, but he hopes he can wear them down. He hopes the edges will someday no longer be too sharp to handle.

Ryan rubs his fist against Brendon's spine softly, slowly. Between the vertebrae, Ryan's knuckles fit perfectly. As both of their hard edges meet, there is complement. Surely, there is beauty in the unity of jagged people.


End file.
